


finding islands in the flood

by nevermordor



Series: Anywhere I Go, There You Are [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Asexual Character, Awkward Conversations, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Feelings, First Time, Introspection, M/M, Making Out, Nakamaship, Non-Explicit, zoro's bad at words. and emotions. and expressing them in any capacity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermordor/pseuds/nevermordor
Summary: Luffy scoots closer to him; before he realizes what he’s done, Zoro’s shifted himself further down the bow, maintaining the space between them. Luffy pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth. Ice cream drips onto his shorts.Zoro looks down at the dark water below. “So you haven’t ever wanted to be with someone?”“I am with you — right now, silly.”“No. Like…in bed and stuff.”“I sleep in your bed all the time.”“No, I—” Zoro runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “I meant sex, Luffy. You’ve never wanted to have sex at all?”“I dunno, Zoro,” Luffy says, brow furrowing in exasperation. “I don’t think about it.”--Navigation's never been his strong suit, but Zoro finds his way to Luffy nevertheless.





	finding islands in the flood

**Author's Note:**

> cracks knuckles, back from vacation and ready to write more gay pirates. title's inspired by uhhhhh, lights down low by MAX because, i like shitty pop music

Today is weird. Which isn’t saying much, since most days with his crew are at least a little weird, but that only means Zoro’s getting better at detecting when shit’s actually weird, and today is  _weird_. It’s partly because of the marines and it’s definitely because of Luffy, which make the violent, threatening gestures Nami’s aiming at him from the safety of the kitchen feel a bit unfair.

“This is your fault,” she hisses, before she’s drowned out by a cannonball as it soars overhead and just misses Merry’s mast; it’s followed by several more bursts of cannon fire along the shore of the island they’re rapidly departing from. Water surges into the air, spilling onto the deck. Chopper squeals. “If you hadn’t tried to fight all of those guys, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now!”

“It’s  _Luffy’s_ fault,” Zoro retorts. “Who the fuck waves at a marine captain?”

“He asked me what my name was,” Luffy says, sounding so reasonable about it that Zoro kind of wants to smack him. “In the bar he tapped me on the shoulder and he asked me what my name was, so I told him! I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m gonna be king of the—”

Another explosion of cannon fire rattles them all. “Captain,” Robin calls from the prow, “when you have a moment?”

Luffy bounds over to her, inflating himself into a makeshift shield. Merry’s sails flare and she veers to the left, Usopp wrenching at the helm. “No, not south!” Zoro bellows. “Head north! I said  _north._ We need to go faster!”

“I’m  _trying—”_

“Well, try harder!”

“Oh, shut up,” Sanji snaps, delivering a roundhouse kick to a wayward cannonball aimed at Merry’s quarter deck. “Don’t try to contribute brain power, marimo. Just swing your sticks, that’s all you’re good for.”

Zoro blinks against the sudden flash of red that blinds him. “‘Sticks’?” he repeats, voice trembling.

Chopper’s making a series of high-pitched squeaks, like a balloon deflating. There’s smoke everywhere, stinging Zoro’s lungs and making Nami wheeze, and Luffy won’t stop laughing as Merry rocks to and fro and pushes stubbornly onward in her escape.

“Incoming!”

“Don’t go north!” Nami shrieks at Usopp. “Go south, go south, the wind will change soon!”

“ _STICKS? DID YOU SAY STICKS?”_

“We’re all gonna die,” Usopp moans, clinging white-knuckled to the helm.  
  
  
  
  
They make it through somehow, like they always do. It takes nearly getting sunk twice after dodging another patrolling marine ship two miles out and then barreling their way through one of the Grand Line’s abrupt storms. By the time the sea around them finally calms, the sun is low on the horizon. Sanji makes them a mountain of spaghetti and then passes out on the kitchen table. It’s Robin’s night on dish duty: hands sprout at the sink and along Sanji’s shoulders as she drapes his jacket over him; a flurry of hands spring up from the floor and gently shoo the rest of them from the kitchen.

Rainwater drips from the sails. Zoro sprawls himself out along the deck, the moisture from a small puddle bleeding through the back of his shirt. Nami’s telling Chopper and Usopp about which constellations are visible this time of the year. He only catches about every third word she says, and he’s not really paying attention anyway, but her voice is softer than usual and Chopper’s little giggles put the lingering adrenaline in him finally to rest.

There's a nudge at his elbow. “Oi, Zoro. You awake?”

“No,” Zoro says and opens his eyes.

Luffy's crouched beside him. He’s refilled his dinner plate yet again with a tower of meatballs and ten strands of spaghetti. “Today was so much fun.”

“Yeah, super fun. We got shot at and nearly died.”

“But we didn’t,” Luffy corrects him. “Anyway, Zoro liked it.”

“You’re lucky I do. This crew would be a mess without me.”

“And your sticks.”

Zoro shoves him. The meatballs tumble to the floor; Luffy scoops them into his mouth with one hand and shoves Zoro right back with the other. They wrestle but it’s useless, Luffy snickering as his arms wrap around Zoro’s body in long, rubbery cords and drag Zoro halfway into his lap.

The night air is cool and sweet. Zoro presses his face into the front of Luffy’s shirt and breathes in the stink of dried sweat and tang of brine. Luffy’s stomach quivers, his laughter slowing and finally subsiding. “Hey,” Luffy says and when Zoro looks up, Luffy leans down and kisses him.

He’s only been kissed a couple times before Luffy — once or twice by Johnny and Yosaku, mostly while they were drunk and giddy from an especially good bounty, and by guys he met in bars and fooled around with in the East Blue — so he still doesn’t really know how to gauge a good kiss. He knows he likes this, though: Luffy’s lips greasy from dinner, the way he rumbles happy and low in the back of his throat when Zoro pushes his tongue into his mouth. He likes the way Luffy holds onto him just a little too tight. Zoro kisses him until his jaw hurts and Luffy’s mouth leaks spit at the corners and then he turns his face away first. “I win,” Luffy says smugly.

“I let you win,” Zoro grumbles but there’s no edge in it. Mostly he feels warm all over and a little bit jittery. He licks his lips which still taste like Luffy, and the jittery feeling in him rises into his chest and makes his heart skip. “Hey,” he begins and then stops short. Luffy grunts curiously, squirming closer. Zoro’s been meaning to ask for weeks now, been trying to figure out what the best way to ask would even be and he’s still been coming up empty. He plays with the frayed ends of Luffy’s shorts and when he finally speaks again, his voice comes out low and hoarse. “Should we go down to our hammocks?” The question and his heart pound in the base of his throat.

“Yeah,” Luffy says, yawning in Zoro’s face. “I’m pretty tired. I could sleep.”

The jitteriness in him fizzles out, leaves him feeling winded. “That’s not what I meant,” he says — or starts to, before it’s edged out by a yawn of his own. Across the deck from them, Nami and Usopp are struggling to their feet, a snoring Chopper cradled in Nami’s arms. Zoro’s dully aware of how bad his own feet hurt, how heavy his body feels. After all: it’s been yet another long, strange day. “Yeah,” he says instead, “me too.”

They never make it downstairs. Luffy kicks his sandals off, pushes his hat back, and scrambles on top of Zoro. The kitchen door creaks, the mast groaning as Robin climbs to the crow’s nest to take first watch and Zoro lets himself relax a little more.

Luffy pokes at his nose and chin and lips, giggling and snatching his hands back when Zoro pretends to bite at them. When he finally drifts into sleep, it’s with his face tucked in against the top of Luffy’s head, breathing in the smell of wet straw.  
  
  
  
  
He doesn’t try again until two islands later.

They’ve found a secluded beach to camp out for the night. It’s a little past eleven and everyone else is asleep under piles of blankets all along the white sand. Zoro’s still awake. Unfortunately, so is Robin — he’s beginning to suspect she’s part owl or something. He spends the better part of an hour pretending to clean Yubashiri until she finally closes her book. “I think I’ll turn in for the evening.”

“Gonna be a long day tomorrow. Rest while you can.”

“Of course. Don’t keep the captain up too late, Mr. Swordsman.”

Zoro’s ears go hot. He’s scrambling for a retort but the night breeze stirs the trees, scattering bonfire sparks; Chopper shivers in his sleep and Zoro has to check on him. When he looks back, Robin’s already tucked herself in and turned away from him.

He makes himself wait until he’s sure her breathing has slowed and then he sheathes Yubashiri and places him carefully atop a nearby log with his brothers. Zoro gets to his feet and runs through his stretches, loosening stiff muscles. He throws another log on the fire, and the blanket that he’s not using over Chopper and Usopp’s prone bodies. He makes himself do a quick circle around their camp but the beach and the nearby jungle are quiet and then there’s nothing else left for him to do but trudge to the water’s edge and wade out towards Merry.

Luffy sits perched atop her prow. He’s little more than an outline in the moonlight as he gazes out across the cove where they’ve anchored, to the sea beyond.

“You should get some rest,” Zoro says as he approaches.

Luffy flips upside down, dangling from Merry’s horns, one hand holding his hat in place. “Zoro’s still awake too!”

“Can’t trust you to be on first watch by yourself,” Zoro teases. “Gimme a hand, I’m coming up.”

Luffy’s arm winds itself around Zoro’s waist; he yanks without warning, the wet sand sliding out from beneath Zoro’s feet. He has a split second to get his bearings before Luffy swings him up onto Merry’s deck and drops him right on his ass. He’s barely sat upright when Luffy launches himself from Merry’s prow into Zoro’s arms, knocking him flat on his back.

“Moron,” Zoro snaps, wincing.

“Cranky,” Luffy replies fondly.

People never used to touch him this much. When he was little he’d sleep nestled next to the other boys in the dormitory of the Isshin dojo, listening to the muffled snores and sighs in the dark. After Johnny stopped being so self-conscious around him all the time, he used to muss Zoro’s hair up, and once Yosaku hugged him after he drank too much and got sick and Zoro sat with him for half the night. And there were men. Five years and hundreds of leagues from Shimotsuki and anybody who really knew him, there were men in bars along the East Blue who bought him round after round of beer, men with knowing smiles and hands that lingered for too long on his shoulder as they waited for him to make up his mind.

With his crew it’s different. He’s always being touched: dragged along in Luffy’s wake, swatted by Nami, shoved by Sanji, tended to by Chopper. There’s always an elbow in his side when he and Usopp and Luffy pass out in a tangle on the deck; always a shoulder jammed into his when they’re crowded around the table for dinner; always a back pressed to his own when it feels like he’s cornered in a fight and forgets, for just a second, that he’s not alone anymore.

Luffy’s hands wander, his knuckles dragging down the side of Zoro’s face. “Zoro’s being real quiet.”

“Yeah,” Zoro mumbles because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Luffy beams at him. His arms loop in lazy coils around Zoro’s shoulders, and then Luffy dips his head and covers Zoro’s mouth with his own.

Need seeps through Zoro, slow and achy — like when he’s anticipating a really good fight, only somehow better than that. He spreads his legs to let Luffy settle himself between them and that’s also good, that’s more than good. Luffy’s muscles shift along the strong planes of his back when Zoro reaches up and fists his hand in Luffy’s vest because he wants Luffy even closer to him, as close as skin. A rumble of laughter makes his lips vibrate and Zoro moans and breaks their kiss first. “I win again,” Luffy crows, tucking his face into the crook of Zoro’s neck to nuzzle and lick him playfully. Their hips push into each other’s and Zoro arches his back, offering, waiting.

Everything about this is right: Merry’s sturdy and worn deck beneath him, Luffy and the open sky above him. This is right and Zoro kisses him again in the sleepy moonlight, in the long shadows of Merry’s sails.

Luffy sits up suddenly. “Hey, you wanna go explore the island and stuff?”

The breeze stirs; without the warmth of Luffy’s body against his own, Zoro shivers. “What?” he says, head swimming.

“Do you wanna go exploring?” Luffy asks, a little more impatiently. “I bet we can find all kinds of cool bugs at night. Do you think the fireflies are out yet?”

“I don’t...I don’t know,” Zoro admits.

“Let’s go see!”

Luffy bounds to his feet, nearly trampling Zoro in the process as he lurches over to Merry’s bow. Zoro is slower to follow. He sits up, keeping his legs crossed, his trousers too tight. He feels heavy and flushed all over and he shivers harder in the coolness of the evening.

“Are you coming?”

“I’ll, uh...I’ll catch up.”

“Well, hurry _.”_ Luffy sticks his tongue out at him and then flops over Merry’s side.

Zoro tilts his head back and looks at the sky. He makes himself take a deep breath and clenches his hands into fists, focusing on the slowing of his pulse and the slivers of pain where his nails dig in against his palms. It’s a distant squawk of surprise from Luffy that finally grounds him though. He clambers over Merry’s side as well and sets off down the beach. He’s not the best at navigating but he’s always able to find his way to Luffy.

Zoro tracks him to the edge of a secluded lagoon, a mile or down the beach. “I don’t see any fireflies,” Luffy says, arms crossed, his mouth pulled into a pout.

“It’s pretty early in the summer.” Zoro kicks at the sand. “Maybe there are bats,” he suggests at length.

Luffy brightens. “You think so?”

“One way to find out.”

They stumble back to camp as cracks of dawn appear across the sky, flinging themselves down next to the dying fire. Luffy tucks his head under Zoro’s chin and passes out at once. Zoro doesn’t know when he falls asleep, only that he wakes up still tired, as his crew hollers for him to come get breakfast. His arms are cold and empty.  
  
  
  
  
He needs to play it cool.

For starters, he’s not going anywhere and neither is Luffy, which means there’s no reason to rush when things are so good between them already. It’s a little confusing, sure. But Luffy always has trouble focusing and while it’s Zoro’s unofficial job to keep him on track and on task, a lot of the time they’re both too busy or too tired. Besides, loose and casual has always been more their style. They’ll get around to it when they get around to it.

He sticks to this plan for a whole day and a half and then the following evening he finds himself draped along the port bow with Luffy, watching him slurp down his second bowl of ice cream. The night’s muggy and Luffy’s shirtless after spilling juice on himself at dinner. Zoro knows he’s staring and he knows that technically speaking they’re dating and he’s allowed to stare, but he finds himself looking at the cords of muscle in Luffy’s arms and shoulders, finds himself thinking again about how it felt when Luffy pinned him down so casually against the deck, and then he finds the question he wasn’t going to let himself ask worming its way out of him. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Luffy screws his face up with careful concentration; Zoro grins in spite of himself. “I’m ready. What’s the question?”

“It’s just…” Zoro hesitates but Sanji and Robin are still in the kitchen having tea and everybody else is downstairs. “Do you wanna…? Uh. Do you wanna—?” He fumbles it again. Luffy cocks his head, bemused and waiting. “Do you wanna have sex with me?” Zoro blurts out.

It’s okay, he decides immediately, if Luffy doesn’t want him in that way. It’s also okay if Luffy isn’t ready or if he turns Zoro down, because Luffy will do whatever he wants and Zoro will be the last person to ever try and take that from him.

“Oh,” Luffy says, surprised. “That’s what you wanted to ask? I thought maybe you wanted some of my ice cream.” Luffy throws him a wary glance and then clutches his bowl a little tighter. “But Zoro doesn’t like chocolate.”

“Uh,” Zoro says. “I don’t. But yeah. That’s what I wanted to ask you.”

“Huh.” Luffy sucks on his spoon. “I dunno.”

“You...don’t?”

“Nuh-uh. Guess I haven’t been thinking about it. You been thinking about it?”

"I mean,” Zoro says and then has to stop and swallow around the tightness in his throat. He suddenly feels extremely stupid and doesn’t know why or what to do about it. “We’ve been messing around a lot lately.”

“Yeah,” Luffy says, grinning.

“So...I guess I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” Zoro admits.

“Okay,” Luffy says, grinning wider, and helps himself to more ice cream. “Then yeah! Let’s do it.”

“But do you  _want_ to?”

“Sure. I’ve never had sex before. It sounds like it could be fun.”

Too much to unpack. This conversation is unraveling a lot faster than Zoro can keep up with it. “But you haven’t wanted to have sex with me?”

“Well…” Luffy thinks a moment. “Not until you mentioned it. But if you wanna do it, then I wanna do it too. I wanna try it with you.” Luffy scoots closer to him; before he realizes what he’s done, Zoro’s shifted himself further down the bow, maintaining the space between them. Luffy pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth. Ice cream drips onto his shorts.

Zoro looks down at the dark water below. “So you haven’t ever wanted to be with someone?”

“I  _am_ with you — right now, silly.”

“No. Like…in bed and stuff.”

“I sleep in your bed all the time.”

“No, I—” Zoro runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “I meant sex, Luffy. You’ve never wanted to have sex at all?”

“I  _dunno_ , Zoro,” Luffy says, brow furrowing in exasperation. “I don’t think about it.”

“Maybe your brain’s broken,” Zoro says, trying for a joke and then immediately wishing he’d just punched himself in the face instead.

Luffy shrugs. They sit together without talking for a bit. Zoro’s throat feels like it’s swelling shut. “Sorry,” he says at length.

“Why?”

“‘Cause…I’m dumb.”

“You don’t gotta apologize for that.”

“I should — I should have asked,” Zoro says. “Before I just grabbed and touched you and messed around with you all the time and...and stuff.”

“But I like it when Zoro touches me. I like it when you kiss me ‘cause it feels super nice and ‘cause you make all these funny noises. And I like it ‘cause you’re always smiling afterwards.”

“But you don’t want to have sex,” Zoro says again, carefully.

Luffy’s frown deepens into genuine concern. “I think maybe you’ve got the broken brain. I keep saying it’s okay but then you keep forgetting. You wanna maybe talk to Chopper?”

“No,” Zoro says and pushes himself up and off the port bow altogether. “Don’t even worry about it, Luffy. I’m okay.”  
  
  
  
  
They stop off at the next available port to restock on supplies. Nami gets to talking with a bunch of sailors who are docking for the evening and cajoles them into playing cards with her. By the time she’s done with them, every last sailor has been stripped down to his socks and Nami’s pockets are jangling. She’s in a generous mood for once: Sanji buys so much food he needs Robin and Usopp’s help carrying it back to the ship and Chopper splurges on too many books. Nami even treats Zoro to a flask of expensive honey mead. It’s sweet and goes down smooth and he drinks his way through most of the bottle as they sit out on Merry’s deck: Sanji whining on and on about how he should never have made a lady carry his things, Usopp cramming his mouth full of ham, Nami gloating as she counts what remains of her winnings. Luffy curls up at Zoro’s side, stealing Sanji and Usopp’s food when they aren’t looking.

Robin has first watch again. At a quarter to midnight they stumble downstairs. Zoro kicks his boots off and clambers into his hammock. Luffy clambers in right alongside him. “Move _over,_  Zoro.”

“This is my hammock, go sleep in your own,” Zoro grumbles, shifting so that Luffy can fit himself into the crook of Zoro’s arm.

He’s way drunker than he meant to be and he’s going to regret that in a few hours when it’s his turn to haul his ass above deck and keep watch. Right now, though, his head is buzzing pleasantly. He’s a little dizzy and he’s very tired, and Luffy’s like a big, warm pillow beside him. Zoro buries his face in Luffy's neck; his vest is riding up and Zoro slides his hands beneath it, stroking the small of Luffy’s back.

Luffy hums, soft and needy, in his ear.

Zoro sits up too fast, smacking his head on the ceiling.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Sanji demands, as pain bursts across the front of Zoro’s skull and sharp colors blossom in front of his eyes.

“Did you hear something? Is Robin okay?” Chopper asks with trepidation. Luffy grabs the wall, steadying the hammock.

“There was — there was a bug,” Zoro says, his voice strangled. Everyone’s staring at him; another wave of heat that has nothing do with the pain flares through him. “Never mind. I’m going to sleep,” he snaps. He lays back down, trying to ignore Usopp’s stifled laughter. Luffy snuggles in close again and Zoro lifts his arms and clasps his hands behind his head.

There’s a disgruntled whine from the vicinity of his armpit. “This ain’t comfy.”

“It’s comfy for me.”

“Put your arms down.”

“This is how I wanna sleep,” Zoro maintains flatly.

Sanji flicks his cigarette out the porthole window. “Your arms are going to be numb tomorrow morning.”

“Shut up.”

“Suit yourself.”

Usopp turns the lights out. Luffy puts his head on Zoro’s chest. His hair tickles Zoro’s nose.

He wakes to the creaking of floorboards overhead, as Sanji moves about the kitchen. Luffy’s still snoring quietly next to him, and so Zoro makes himself lay very still and ignores the dull prickling in his wrists and elbows.  
  
  
  
  
He volunteers for first watch the following night and the night after that too. The third time he offers, Usopp hesitates with his foot on the lowest rung of the ladder to the crow’s nest. “Are you sure?” Usopp asks. Over his shoulder, Zoro watches as Luffy drifts down to the men's quarters. He's gripped by a brief, violent need to tell Usopp everything, because Usopp's a lot smarter and a lot nicer than than Zoro is and a lot better at figuring out how people feel and why. He’d probably know what to do. Then the impulse passes, leaving him with a weird knot in his stomach at the prospect of trying to put everything into actual words: that he’s been fooling around with Luffy the whole time without even asking if it was okay first. He doesn’t want Usopp to think about him in that way. “I’m sure,” he says instead.

Usopp doesn’t press. He only pats Zoro awkwardly on the shoulder and heads to bed.

The night still has an early summer chill in it. Zoro sits out on the deck, clutching his swords to his chest. He makes himself concentrate on finding Polaris just like Nami showed him how to and one by one, he counts the stars.

He’s not sure how long he sits and doesn’t think for, only that there’s an abrupt scuffle on the stairs as Sanji emerges from below deck, hair unkempt, pulling on his jacket. “I know I’m late, so don’t give me shit about it. I’m here now.”

“I’m not that tired,” Zoro says, stifling a yawn.

“Don’t be dramatic, marimo, or I’ll stomp you.”

“I mean it. I can go longer.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re all very impressed.”

“Would you shut up and go back to bed?” Zoro snaps. “I’m trying to be nice and shit.”

“Is that what this is?” Sanji asks snidely. “It sounds more like you being a bossy asshole, as per fricking usual. You’re not even the captain and you’re always barking out orders. How ‘bout you try and  _make_ me leave.”

Zoro’s grip tightens around Wado. He knows he should want to yell back, try and grapple with Sanji — that it might even make him feel better. But his stomach still feels all twisted up from earlier, like when he’s had too much rum and not enough dinner. It’s a bad feeling: it sits in his gut, sick-sweet and rotting. He needs to start drinking more sake.

Sanji huffs and walks away. He comes back, unfortunately, a couple minutes later, and sets a brimming mug of coffee down on the deck. Zoro glances at it. “I don’t drink that shit.”

“It’s freezing out,” Sanji retorts. “And you’ll need it if you’re going to be staying up all night.”

Zoro grunts. He picks up the coffee and takes a tentative sip. It’s black and oily and steaming hot; the bitterness of it drowns the sick-sweet feeling in him.

“I have no idea why you’re camping out up here,” Sanji says, sliding an unlit cigarette between his lips. “Not that I’m complaining. At least I don’t have to lay there and try to sleep while you and Luffy suck each other’s damn faces off.” There’s the click and flare of his lighter. “He’ll be disappointed if you don’t show up,” Sanji says at length.

“He’s fine without me.”

Sanji rakes his bangs out of his eyes. “Whatever. At least go sit in the kitchen, so I don’t have to look at your ugly mug for two whole hours.”

“Fuck you,” Zoro grumbles. Sanji aims a half-hearted kick in his direction.

He does as Sanji says though, and sits at the kitchen table with his hands wrapped around his coffee cup until feeling returns to his fingertips. When Robin’s watch begins, Sanji joins him, the stovetop clicking until the gas catches the flame, the fridge droning quietly, Sanji’s favorite knife thudding in a gentle rhythm against the cutting board. He makes Zoro do the dishes — “Don’t be useless, marimo” — and Zoro scowls his way through it, shoving plates back into the cabinets with more force than necessary. Still: it occupies his hands and his mind, lets him focus for a little while on something that’s not the dull pounding bruise at the front of his skull or the ache in his eyes or the weird nausea seeping slowly back into him. By the time he’s done scrubbing the last of the pots, the sun is up and there’s fresh bread baking in the oven. Chopper and Luffy and Usopp are playing tag out on deck. There’s another mug of coffee set out on the table, waiting for him. It’s still hot, tinged with just a splash of dark, rich rum.  
  
  
  
  
The things that Zoro knows about himself are few but simple: he’s strong, he’s fast, he likes to eat, he likes to drink, and he’s pretty damn good at fucking shit up. Sometimes he’s too good at that last one. Sometimes he reacts on instinct in the middle of a fight and manages to cut the other guy real bad, but also accidentally trips Sanji in the process. Or sometimes he forgets to listen when Robin's still in the middle of explaining strategy, and instead blazes right past her.

Sometimes he fucks shit up even when he's not really trying. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Usopp over breakfast and it's only an hour later, when Usopp isn't quite meeting his gaze, that Zoro realizes that he might have been kind of a dick to him. Or sometimes Nami won't talk to him and he has to spend most of the day wracking his brain, retracing his words, trying to figure out what he said, what he did wrong.

The other thing that he knows about himself is that he has to learn to be more careful. It's fun to brawl and to fight and to argue. It's just that there are some things that require him to stop and actually think; things that require care, that would be all too easy for him to break.  
  
  
  
  
Macaw Island is well into festival season when they dock in its main port. Everyone they pass is in sparkling costumes and bright colors, and a variety of smells permeate the air: grilled meat, a strange cinnamon sweetness that even Sanji can’t place, the sweat clinging to the hundreds of people that mill about the narrow streets.

Nami uses the rest of her winnings to pay for the penthouse suite at the best luxury hotel in the city. “I feel like...it’s too nice for us to be allowed in here,” Usopp mumbles sheepishly as he and Zoro inspect the main living room. From the broad windows of the penthouse, the whole city is lit up with strings of multicolored lights and massive, luminous floats.

Robin's claimed the bathroom and, from the smell of it, poured every available scented soap into the tub. Sanji and Luffy are passed out together on the couch: Luffy’s head on his shoulder, Sanji’s arm curled around his waist.

“Zoro,” Nami says, and he tears his gaze away from the pair of them. “I need your help for a second.”

She makes him hold her backpack open as she swipes anything and everything of value in the suite. “So we can at least break even,” she explains, her backpack straining at the seams.

“Can we take those too?” He nods to the cabinet he discovered earlier, stuffed with miniature bottles of whiskey and rum.

She begrudgingly shifts the contents of the bag to make space. “As it turns out,” she continues, “there’s three separate rooms that come with the penthouse. We’ve basically got the whole top floor to ourselves. Robin and I get our own room, of course. Which one do you want?” She produces a large, brass key, twirling it around and around on her finger. “The master bedroom has a king bed. If you and Luffy are interested, I could swing it for a price.”

“I’m broke anyway.”

Nami frowns — probably disappointed at failing to make a sale. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m tired.”

“Usopp said you haven’t been sleeping.” She studies him. “Sanji-kun said you were up yesterday night too.”

“It’s creepy when you worry about me,” he says. She swats him but not as hard as she usually does and he lets himself tumble over onto the plush rug.  
  
  
  
  
They join the festivities just in time for the fireworks. Color and sound bloom and burst above the city. The streets are busier than before and Zoro hoists Chopper up onto his shoulders so nobody can accidentally step on him. Food stalls sell hunks of rich meat and trays of roasted potatoes and there’s even a booth with cotton candy that Zoro tracks down specifically for Chopper. An impromptu dance floor is set up outside a packed bar; Sanji swings and twirls and dips Nami while she clings to him, her face pink with laughter. Sanji is frustratingly good, Zoro can’t help but notice. He knows exactly where to put his hands and when.

“This place is awesome,” Luffy says, returning to their table with his twentieth helping of seafood stew. “Now  _this_ is a party.”

“It’s fun,” Zoro agrees.

Luffy kicks his shoes off and then kicks his feet up into Zoro’s lap. He concentrates, waggling his big toe and stretching it until it pokes Zoro in the stomach. Zoro raises an eyebrow at him and Luffy laughs. His big toe stretches even further, poking Zoro in the chest.

“Get a room,” Usopp jokes.

A prickly wave of heat crawls down his neck. Zoro shifts his chair until Luffy’s feet tumble to the ground. “Now you’re too far away,” Luffy complains and then flings himself into Zoro’s lap, nearly toppling the chair over backwards with both of them in it.

“Watch it!"

Luffy snickers, his mouth hovering above Zoro’s own. He leans in as Zoro leans away; lips slide wet and messy across his cheek. Luffy’s eyelashes tickle his skin. “Zoro’s being weird.”

“I’m not,” Zoro says. He wishes people would stop saying that to him.

“You  _are_.” Luffy swivels his head around; Zoro turns away again and their foreheads bump together, his chin squashing Luffy’s nose. “You don’t—” Zoro fumbles, aware that Usopp is looking at them in surprise “—you don’t have to kiss me all the time.”

“Well, I definitely can’t if you keep moving your face around,” Luffy points out, slightly muffled, mouth still stuck to Zoro’s cheek. “Hang on.”

Zoro stands up fast, chair screeching. Luffy gives a little yelp, arms and legs wrapping around Zoro to avoid being thrown to the ground. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” Zoro says.

Usopp is still staring and even Chopper, half-asleep in a cotton candy gaze, blinks at them in bleary confusion.

“Already?” Luffy whines and clings tighter. “But we just got here.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Zoro says. He twists himself free and sets Luffy, now openly sulking, into his vacant chair. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Later ends up being like five minutes. He doesn’t make it a block and a half — all of the street signs in this damn town look exactly the same for some reason — when he’s hit from behind. Zoro trips and almost smashes face first into the pavement. “Damn it, Luffy! I swear, one day you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’d never let that happen,” Luffy says matter-of-factly.

“Whatever. Get off.”

“Nah,” he says, clambering off Zoro’s back. “I’m gonna come with. You might get lost.” Luffy raps his knuckles against the front of Zoro’s skull.

“What about all the food you wanted to try? What about the party? And the others?”

“Ah, they’re all right,” Luffy says. He loops his arm through Zoro’s, tangling their fingers together as they let the crowd pull them along in its current. “Nami and Sanji signed up to be in a dance competition. I bet they’ll win! Robin says if they do, she’ll take pictures so I can see.”

“You should be with them.”

“Should I?”

Zoro doesn’t know how to respond to that. Luffy swings their joined hands back and forth. They wander, and Luffy eagerly points out groups of musicians that have clustered on street corners, clowns in elaborate makeup and costumes, beautiful women in headdresses and spangles parading through the streets. Around them the crowd teems with other couples: holding hands too, their heads bent together, laughing at private jokes murmured into each other’s ears. They make it look so uncomplicated. Zoro grips Luffy’s hand a little tighter.

“How come you’re not having fun?”

“I am,” Zoro mutters.

“But you don’t wanna go play any of the carnival games with me and you don’t wanna hang out with everyone else.” A faint wrinkle appears across Luffy’s forehead. “You don’t wanna kiss me tonight neither.”

“I already told you, I just…don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

Luffy gnaws at a hangnail. “Is that why you don’t wanna sleep in the same bed as me anymore?”

He can be irritatingly perceptive when he feels like it. Zoro stops walking. Luffy does too, though he still doesn’t let go of Zoro’s hand. “Is that also why you don’t wanna have sex anymore?” Luffy asks.

Zoro’s face goes hot. “You said you didn’t wanna.”

“I did?” Luffy looks perplexed. “I don’t remember saying that. But I guess I don’t remember lots of things.”

“You said you weren’t thinking about it when I asked you,” Zoro says and feels like a piece of shit all over again. “You said you didn’t wanna.”

Luffy puffs his cheeks up and then blows them out in exasperation. “I don't think about anything, really. I just kinda do stuff and see what happens. But I don’t remember saying I didn’t wanna have sex with you ‘cause I totally do. I think it’d be fun.” He beams at Zoro. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

The night and the party bustle on, leaving them behind. Zoro wishes he had something cool to say in response to that, or maybe something to make up for acting like such a fucking idiot the past week, or something comforting. But he  _is_ kind of an idiot a lot of the time, and comfort has never been his strong suit, so he only squeezes Luffy’s hand in his own, thumb tracing across gnarled, callused knuckles.

Luffy extends his legs, arches up on his toes, until they’re face to face. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Zoro says, and Luffy does, slow and lazy. He pulls away first, his hand cupping Zoro’s face.

“I win,” Zoro says, heart pounding.

Luffy laugh-snorts. “I missed kissing Zoro.”

“You can keep going if you feel like it,” Zoro says, and so Luffy does. The festival rages on, people parting around them, brushing past; they get lost together in the flood of the crowd.  
  
  
  
  
He only finds the key in his back pocket after they’ve returned to the hotel. It’s tied with a ribbon to an IOU note for 500,000 beri.

“I’m going to kill her,” Zoro announces.

Luffy cackles and grabs the key from Zoro. He jams it into every door until he finds the one it unlocks and then reaches back across the suite to pull Zoro off his feet, into his arms. “Luffy,” Zoro begins in warning, clinging to him for dear life as Luffy trips on the carpet and over every piece of their collective luggage. They stumble into the master bedroom, Zoro’s head smacking against the door frame as they go.

“My bad!” Luffy chirps, as Zoro hisses and smacks him right back. Luffy only laughs harder and flings him onto the bed, the mattress springs creaking as Luffy dives in beside him. “Oh,” Luffy cries excitedly, “it’s bouncy! I’ve never had a bed like this before.” He scrambles to his feet. “Zoro, check it out.”

“It’s pretty soft,” Zoro agrees. Luffy jumps, laughing, his hands on Zoro’s waist to propel himself higher each time. Their shoes leave streaks of dust and sand all over the sheets and Zoro’s face hurts but he can’t stop smiling.

They collapse into a heap of limbs and too many pillows. Zoro toes his boots off and Luffy unbuttons his vest and rolls so that he’s sitting atop Zoro’s hips and suddenly this is happening. Luffy takes his hat off and hangs it with care on the bedpost and then he leans in close. “Hi,” Luffy says.

“Hi,” Zoro says back. Luffy’s grin is crooked. He has a smudge of dirt on his cheek and Zoro loves him so much it hurts.

He shrugs out of his shirt and Luffy unbuttons the front of his shorts and then reaches back across the room to shut the door. Zoro pulls him even closer.

“Am I allowed to laugh?” Luffy asks. “I might laugh.”

“I mean, don’t laugh  _at_ me.”

“Nah, I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Then yeah, you can totally laugh,” Zoro says.

“Also you gotta tell me what to do. ‘Cause I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, so like always.”

Luffy flicks his forehead and then kisses him in the same exact spot. Zoro shimmies out of his pants and kicks them to the bottom of the bed. He feels flushed all over and a little bit nervous because he’s not sure he’s prepared enough for this and there’s a chance he could fuck it up. But he also thinks that one way or another, it’ll probably end up alright. Somehow when it’s Luffy, things just seem to work out okay.

Luffy smooths his hair back from his forehead. His bare chest is pressed to Zoro’s and his eyes are so dark. “You’re sure you wanna do this?” Zoro blurts out, just to be certain. “I don’t wanna make you, like, do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Luffy scoffs. “ _Nobody_ can make me do anything I don’t wanna do.”

“You’re so cool,” Zoro says, teasing. Luffy’s hands find his wrists, pinning them above his head.

“Pretty much.” Luffy grins. “C’mere and kiss me some more.”

“Aye,” Zoro says and does as he's told.

**Author's Note:**

> my roommate, beta reading: so how exactly were they going to hook up in a fucking hammock. like. how would that have even worked.  
> me: look...............zoro's just, he's so stupid,
> 
> if you ever wanna hmu btw, i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nevermordor) or [tumblr](https://nevermordor.tumblr.com). i would love to meet more people in op fandom, so pls come and Yell with me.


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